


Finally

by nanianela



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcoholic Dean Winchester, Angel Soul Bonds (Supernatural), Angelic Grace-Powered Orgasms (Supernatural), Canon Compliant, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Castiel and Dean Winchester Need to Use Their Words, Castiel and Dean Winchester in Love, Castiel's Angelic Grace (Supernatural), Confessions, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Domestic Castiel/Dean Winchester, Domestic Dean Winchester, Dry Humping, Episode 15x18, Episode: s15e18 Despair, Expanded Canon, First Kiss, Fix-It, Fluff and Smut, Innocent Castiel (Supernatural), Internalized Homophobia, Love Confessions, M/M, Making Out, Mating Bond, POV Alternating, Post-Canon Fix-It, Post-Episode: s15e18 Despair, Post-Finale, Season/Series 15, Season/Series 15 Spoilers, Self-Harm, Soft Dean Winchester, Soul Bond, Soul Sex, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:28:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27037210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nanianela/pseuds/nanianela
Summary: How did Dean ever convince himself that he didn’t want this? Whenever the thought that he and Cas could be something more passed his mind, he'd beaten it back, stomped it down, forced it out. The mind that was strong enough to cage Michael himself, the mind that had fought back tooth and nail against the Mark of Cain, that was the very same mind that had sabotaged himself out of his own happiness for so long.Dean's hands cradled Cas's face between them for a moment, thumbs slipping down to rest just beneath his cheekbones, taking in his blown pupils and kissed-out expression as Dean fought back his disbelief. Something they'd both always wanted, but thought they'd never have. It was just... here, now, finally.This is my version of a post-finale fix-it, starting after the events of 15x18 and reimagining a future for the Winchesters filled with family and love ♡
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester
Comments: 40
Kudos: 167





	1. Chapter 1

It was creeping up on three o' clock in the morning when it happened.

It should have been a grand entrance: a flood of light, wind whipping through the room, doors ripped from their hinges, the ear-bleeding screech of an angel's truevoice. At least, that was what Dean had been waiting on for weeks, the scenario's grandeur expanding each time he envisioned it. And he'd imagined it a lot, obsessively if he was being honest.

It wasn't any of those things.

It was entirely quiet, a cat slipping back home after being missing for weeks, finding it curled up contently in its favorite spot like it had never been gone.

Cas had been dead.

And now, he was here.

Dean was laying on the right side of his bed on top of the covers in nothing but boxers, bulky noise-cancelling headphones blasting music that he'd stopped paying attention to hours ago, strangling a bottle by the neck and pickling himself in alcohol. 

Dean's legs flailed as he scrambled to rip off his headphones, eyes wide with pure shock. By the time a thought traveled sluggishly through his boozed-soaked brain down to his mouth, the important words had fallen away and all he was left with was a strangled "How?"

Cas came up to the bed in fast strides, Dean could see on his face that he was barely keeping tears at bay. Before Dean could process that he was coming closer, strong arms were already squeezing him tight. Dean's chin rested on the shelf of Castiel's shoulder as his arms instinctually wrapped right back around him. He was hit with a smell, that familiar, comforting scent that was unmistakably _Cas_.

Cas was _here,_ hugging him like he hadn't made the ultimate sacrifice, leaving a Cas-shaped absence so painful that all Dean could do was curl up and cry on the cold concrete floor as he broke over and over and again: just when he was convinced this was _it_ , this was rock bottom, that the pain couldn't possibly drill down any deeper, it did. Over and over.

Dean hadn't been able to pick up the phone even when it was Sam calling on the other end, everything Cas had confessed in a vicious playback in his head. Each time it looped Dean wished he could have just said something _._ Something even half as poetic as what Cas had said, instead of gawking there like an idiot, struggling to process it as it all unfolded so damn _fast_.

Cas was back, yet his drunken mind was struggling to accept it. Fuck, he was beyond wasted. It had been a while since he'd let himself go this far, let himself get to this place— since Jack had come into their lives. Dean had cut back so the kid wouldn't have to see him in this state, but with Cas gone, that rule broke along with Dean.

"-managed to escape with my grace intact, but I'm on borrowed time."

Crap, it seemed that Cas had been talking to him this whole time, and Dean had entirely forgotten to pay attention, fully distracted by the warm pressure of the pair of arms around him, his simple solidness, how it felt to rest his swimming head on his shoulder.

"A deal is a deal, and my grace still belongs to the Empty. I'll have to cut it out from my body, but I'll be able to live. Here. As a human. I'll have to-" Cas interrupted himself with a sharp intake of breath that snapped Dean out of it, he was struggling hard to be present.

Cas suspiciously eyed a peek of white tape at the hem of Dean's red plaid boxers, brows crumpled together in confusion and concern.

"You're injured." Castiel's nimble fingers made quick work of cinching up the thin fabric all the way up to the base of his legs, like it was nothing, as easily as if he was lifting up a sleeve. "Let me heal you, while I still can."

Dean couldn’t help the thrilling roller coaster drop in his stomach. A leg was different than an arm. Really different. Everyone knew it was a sexually charged body part, but Castiel was notorious for missing every memo that made up the human world.

"... _Wait_ ," Dean slurred entirely too late, head bobbing with the absence of Cas's shoulder to hold it in place. "You're not- s'ppsed to see-"

His bowed inner thighs were padded with matching squares of white gauze, edges strapped down into place with white athletic tape. The dressings were fresh. Cas skimmed his fingertips along the gauze, his expression pinched from pain. The angel met Dean's eyes, water already brimming in his.

Dean scrubbed down on his scruffy face that had gone a while without a shave, heaving out a sigh. Cas wasn't supposed to see this, no one was ever supposed to find out. His face stayed hidden away in his palms when he slowly started to speak. "Life withoutcha Cas... wasnn't worth living. Couldn't feel a damn thing. You were... _gone_ , and I..." 

"You hurt yourself." Cas breathed, his tone warbling ever so slightly. Cas's fingernail snagged at an edge of the tape which was puckering the milky white skin. "May I see?"

“It ain’t pretty.” Dean grunted. "-But yeah."

Castiel managed to keep his composure when he peeled back an edge to reveal striped gashes underneath, skin stained a bright orange from iodine. Dean could tell it scared him by the subtle flare of his nostrils, the clenching down on his jaw. The angel’s hand rested on his thigh, his touch so kind. The tears had grown too much, they spilled over his cheeks in two shiny lines without blinking.

Without another word, Cas was painstakingly gentle as he peeled the rest of the dressings away, one side after the other. Now Dean felt well and truly exposed, and he tossed an arm to bar over his eyes. His face felt hot. He couldn't stomach that Cas had found out, that Cas was _looking_.

Dean knew the angel didn’t have to touch to heal, he’d seen him hover a glowing hand above victims many times. Still, he touched Dean now, the wounds knitted together with a brief itching and warmth like sunlight as he skimmed his palms and glided cool fingers along the sensitive skin. It wasn’t just affecting his legs: Dean felt a crick in his spine straighten out with a satisfying pop, knots in his neck muscles releasing out from their tight coils.

“Ahh... feels good, Cas.” Dean sighed sleepily, melting back into his mattress. “Mmm.”

Crap, he realized. If the healing was full body, he was already feeling a lot less drunk. No- he was plummeting to sober. All of the sudden, he could smell the reek of alcohol on himself.

"Better?" Castiel's face suddenly came into focus, still wearing that worried expression even though the injuries were gone. 

They simply _looked_ each other for a moment, noses pointed squarely at one another's, like they'd done countless times before. The world had sharpened so dizzyingly fast that Dean was left reeling in his sudden sobriety, reality rushing up on him like he'd done a line of blow. He realized he hadn't spent any time sober since Cas died, not for longer than the first few minutes of waking up. Even then, he always kept a bottle handy on his nightstand.

"Holy shit." Dean's heart only now got the message that _Cas was back_ , his pulse spiked and Dean could hear the blood pounding in his ears. His hand shot out, pawed at the back of Cas's head in disbelief, finally decided on a spot and his fist closed down hard over a tuft of dark hair.

Dean's wide green eyes roved over his face in utter disbelief. 

"Cas." Dean managed to choke out. Forget the time of night, he was electrified.

"I know." Tears were shining in the angel's eyes.

"Cas, you-" Dean couldn't find it in himself to finish that sentence. _You told me you loved me,_ his mind screamed. _Then you went and **fucking** died on me. _

"I'm sorry Dean." Cas's hand found its way to the side of Dean's face, cupped it into his palm. "I'm so sorry."

They both angled forward, faces crowding in until they finally closed that ten year gap with a hard collision of closed lips. Dean didn't think he’d ever kissed anyone that damn innocently before. By all means, it shouldn’t have made Dean tremble somewhere deep in his core, but it did. It was too good, too perfect, something he'd never been able to have before. So, why should he be allowed now?

Would it get ripped away again?

"...If we do this," Dean croaked, dropping his eyes down until they were nearly closed. "I can't go through this again, Cas. I can't lose you again."

"You won't." Castiel assured him, tipping his face to look at him, to see how serious he was about this. "I won't let that happen."

Dean's eyes flicked upward, meeting his. His hand found the back of Cas's neck again and he tilted his head to one side, mouths sneaking open before colliding again. Castiel shivered at a sensation so different from before and made a low growl of interest, a sound somehow even better than what Dean imagined he'd sound like. It was nothing like the exaggerated sounds that came from porn _._ Cas's weren't played up and performative like those always were. Every sound that leaked out of him was so damn genuine it ached.

Their hands roamed, squeezed at shoulders and hips, clasped together, Cas's smaller fingers wedged between Dean's. Soft, wet suckles came from their pursing lips, the nuzzled pushing of their faces. Stubble scratched across Dean’s chin, a sensation that was so new it was jarring, nearly pulling him out of the moment. Nearly flooding his mind with what had been drilled into him, how he was supposed to feel about men.

 _No,_ Dean fought it back with a mental snarl. _This is **Cas**._

_He loves a broken, messed up thing like me._

_He told me so._

The two broke the kiss to breathe. Castiel was rendered a little slack-jawed as he looked at Dean, breathing picked up a hitch, the seam of his lips hanging just barely open because yes, they were really, finally doing this after toeing the line so many times, but never getting the courage to cross it. Dean was transfixed by that full upper lip, shiny with their shared spit, pinker now, more swollen than usual. He'd always wondered what it would feel like to kiss that lip. It didn't look quite so chapped now.

"This feels wonderful," Cas breathed in that blunt way of his, so unfazed by the complex, unspoken rules of the human world.

Dean could remember that feeling, even if it was more of a distant memory now. That initial discovery of how it felt to kiss someone you had feelings for. A weird, decaf sex you had with your faces. How the longer it went on, the more you'd crave. How intoxicated you could get on it, the way it could say so much without words.

They simply gazed at the other for a moment, heavy-lidded as they took each detail of the other man in. For some reason, it startled Dean all over again at how _close_ Cas was. That they could do this with no need to pull away.

Their eyes were just inches apart, nose tips even closer, centimeters apart. Dean could suddenly see so many of the little details in the angel's face from here and Jesus _fuck_ , he was handsome. Cas's eyelids had gone droopy over large pupils rimmed by thin rings of cobalt blue. A few of the prickly dark hairs sprouting from his cheeks and chin had gone white: he'd allowed his vessel to age alongside Dean and Sam. Had his eyelashes always been that long? Even the lower ones were lush, spidery against those endearing eye bags that carved out arcs just beneath his eyes.

He was looking at Dean with an expression that pleaded for more.

"C'mere, Cas." Dean's chest constricted in a painful pang at that expression, when he realized just how long they'd been staving this off. Their eyes folded shut at the same time they gathered the other in close, warm mouths inviting the other in. Castiel pressed his face in closer desperately and their legs tangled, fell into the gaps of the other. Dean's thigh found itself tightly nestled between two of the angel's.

This wasn't even close to sex yet, and Dean couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this damned high on kisses alone. Never, maybe.

How did Dean ever convince himself that he didn’t want this? Whenever the thought that he and Cas could be something more passed his mind, he'd beaten it back, stomped it down, forced it out. The mind that was strong enough to cage Michael himself, the mind that had fought back tooth and nail against the Mark of Cain, that was the very same mind that had sabotaged himself out of his own happiness for so long.

Cas walked on his knees to bracket Dean's hips, settling into his lap and laying his hand to the side of Dean's face, smudging his thumb ever so gently, skimming over his bottom lip. Dean let his lips sneak open, teasing the fingertip with a soft amount of suction. Dean then reciprocated, reaching out so his hands could cradle Cas's face between them for a moment, thumbs slipping down to rest just beneath his cheekbones, taking in his blown pupils and kissed-out expression as Dean fought back his disbelief. Something they'd both always wanted, but thought they'd never have. It was just... here, now, finally. All that tension had lifted away, easy, like a spell gone right.

Dean pulled him in again by the face for more, one hand slipping around to curl at the base of his neck. 

Why had Dean been so afraid to pursue this? He should have known there couldn't be anything else waiting on the other side but the pure love of an Angel of the Lord.

Dean's spread open his freckle-dusted thighs and wrapped them around Cas's hips, locking his legs together at the ankles. Castiel planted a hand between his shoulder blades and lowered Dean gently down onto his back, where he sank into memory foam. Fuck, it felt good being treated like this, Dean thought. Like he was a goddamn 'handle with care' package.

Dean licked his way inside his mouth and swallowed up all of Cas's tiny, pleased noises as they laid chest to chest. He'd never pictured it going this way, him flat on his back with Cas on top, but now that it was happening it felt perfect.

Then Cas shifted his hips, just right, and they both gasped together at the spike of pleasure from the delicious drag of friction. Dean's hands slipped up below the hem of Cas's shirt, calloused hands dragged up to his shoulder blades and he held on tight. The angel's skin was radiating heat. Then there was that incredible angle again, Cas's shifting hips nudging their growing erections together.

Cas's moan vibrated deep and throaty, arms that had hugged Dean close so many times wrapped him up tight, the pair of hands that had rebuilt him molecule by molecule after Hell kneaded and squeezed. The angel's head tucked into the pocket Dean's neck offered, open mouth pressing a wet, warm O shape against the skin. 

"Keep on going, Cas, yeah, just like that." Dean muttered, soft and encouraging. It wasn't the first time he'd coached someone through things, but he'd be kidding himself if he said he'd never wanted to be Cas's guide. 

In one long slide, Dean's palms grazed across the roundness of his ribs, past the flat small of his back, fingers wriggling under the elastic around his waist and getting two handfuls of his ass, starting a nearly tidal push and pull of his hips. The needy noises this drew out of Cas was better than a fucking symphony.

" _Dean-_ " The angel's brows came together to peak on his forehead, eyes shut tight. The power in the room surged, white bolts spitting from around the base of Dean's phone charger in the wall socket, the lights flaring brighter before the room settled back down.

"Hey, you okay?" Dean's fingers curled affectionately around the base of his neck as they both chased their breath, hearts pounding.

Cas nodded, gathering himself with his eyes closed. "I need to be careful, the Bunker's electrical system is old and delicate." He huffed. "I'm finding it hard to control my Grace under these circumstances."

Dean swallowed back the laugh that was threatening to bubble up out of his chest, not wanting Cas to feel like he was laughing at him. But dammit, that must have been the most endearing thing he'd ever heard.

"We've waited eleven years, what's a few more days?" Dean joked. "When you're human, we won't have to worry about it anymore."

Cas's resulting look was disappointed.

"Remember when I said killing is the one thing I know how to do? Guess it's kinda like that with sex too." Dean began, sitting back with his legs folded up beneath him, nervously carding a hand through the hair at the crown of his head. He didn't want to do this, use his words, but he charged forward anyway. "It became something I knew I was good at, and I got good at pulling chicks anywhere I went. Dad was proud of me for it, and it just- it all became a big, fucked up, lifelong _game_ to me."

Dean swallowed his pride and kept going. "And when I dated, it was my crutch. I'm no good with words, so I used my body. If we were arguing, I fixed it with sex. It got me out of things, let me cheat my way out of conversations I should have had."

Cas was listening intently.

"That's gotta change. No more quick fixes: they don't work. It's a bandaid on a bullet wound." Dean admitted. "It can't be like that anymore, Cas, not with you. Not when I feel this way about you."

Silently, Cas reached for his hand.

"My whole life, I've had to fight back against everything my dad put in here," With his free hand, Dean tapped at the side of his skull. "Against his voice in my head telling me how wrong it is. How disgusting 'they' are. What he'd do to me if he found out I was one. So I told myself I didn't want it, and I've been doing that since... guess since I can remember. "

"Did it ever occur to you that I have the exact same problem, Dean?" Cas raised his brows, and because it didn't, Dean waited for him to explain. 

"Angels were strictly forbidden to be with humans, and their offspring were deemed abominations. My brothers and sisters were disgusted with how much time I spent around you two, and when my feelings for you began to bloom, they saw right through me. Nearly all of them wished to kill me for this fault, this... flaw." The angel's voice rumbled on, soft and low in his throat.

Dean's expression gave away how it dawned on him right in that moment, then how stupid he felt for not realizing earlier.

"Damn." Dean shook his head in disbelief that he could be so blind. He'd had Mr. Drill Sergeant Dad, but so did Cas. They were both drafted to fight their fathers' wars, both forced to believe a lie, that love for the wrong thing was sick. But love by definition was something pure: therefore, it could never be wrong.

"Jack is no abomination." Cas growled like the protective parent he was. "Our son is the best child I could ever ask for." Cas finally raised and leveled his eyes to Dean's. It was hard for Dean to look back into them, the emotion they held was so intense. "And my love for you certainly is no flaw." 

So, they were bringing it up now. Fuck. 

"I should've-" Dean choked. "I should've. Said it back. I just— I froze up, Cas. You were saying _goodbye_ and I couldn't take it. I could barely breathe. The thought of losing you again... it fucking broke me, Cas."

Suddenly, Dean had clarity like he'd never felt. It was so painfully obvious what he needed to do now. 

"Cas." He'd never tire of saying that short and sweet nickname, the way it rolled off his tongue and hissed through his teeth.

The angel's brows quirked upward in a silent ' _yes, Dean?_ ' 

"There's something else you have to do before your Grace goes back to the Empty." Dean outstretched his arms and clamped down on his shoulders. “I know I said it’s off limits before. But it’s the only way, Cas. I want it this time. This might be the last chance we get."

Understandably confused, the angel tipped his head to one side, narrowed his eyes in that quizzical expression Dean had gotten so used to over the years. "Dean, what do you...?"

“Go on. Crack me open like a book and get reading. Because if you don’t- because I _can’t-_ " Dean stumbled over his words, so Cas stepped in.

"You told me you wanted "privacy upstairs", and I've always done my best to respect that." Cas said skeptically.

"I know I did. But you poured your heart out to me, and I know I can't say how I feel like you can, Cas." Dean went for his hands instead now, clasping down on both between them.

Cas squeezed back, it gave Dean the courage to insist again.

"Please. I need you to know how I feel."


	2. Chapter 2

Cas turned the lights off and lit a few candles around the room, bathing it in a gentle yellow light. Even with most of the walls a featureless gray concrete and brick, Dean had managed to make the space something that was entirely his own. His most trusted guns that had saved his skin many a time were mounted on the wall, one of the few surviving photos from his childhood of him and Mary sat alongside other photos on the alcove where an axe and typewriter sat.

"Getting some mood lighting going?" Dean joked from where he lounged back on the bed, one hand beneath his head, arm bent into a triangle. 

Cas extinguished the match by waving it back and forth, the woodsy smell from its few curls of smoke quickly spread through the room. 

"Low lights might help you relax." Castiel lifted the corner and slipped in underneath the covers beside Dean, so easily, like he'd been doing it for years. A delayed thrill jolted through him- it felt natural to climb into this bed, Cas had imagined doing so nearly every time he'd visited the room. 

Cas pressed his thumb up to Dean's third eye, the point in the human body where reading would be the most seamless, his palm resting over his face with his fingers grazing his hairline. Dean stole a sideways glance at him with his free eye, corner of his mouth curling just a smidge before he exhaled and shut his eyes, wiggling into place for peak relaxation. 

" 'M ready." Dean muttered.

"There are different methods," Cas explained. "I can search your mind for certain information. Or, I can read the thoughts you guide to the surface. There's much less control for both of us if we do the second- minds tend to wander to unexpected places." 

Dean put up a peace sign before letting his arm flop heavily to his side. 

"The second? Are you sure?"

Still with eyes closed, Dean's hand searched blindly and clasped down on Cas's. He squeezed, and so the angel finally let himself peer inside.

It made sense: if you knew someone was looking, the brain would bring up all of the things you wanted to hide most.

Like the excessive amounts of porn Dean searched for with keywords specifically to get hits on Cas look-alikes. Black hair, blue eyes, lean body type, sometimes he'd go for a fuller beard like Cas had sprouted in Purgatory. All getting bent over, sucked, fucked, so rough. Dean would get through pages and pages, and when he ran out he had to get more specific with his keywords. _Deep voice, virgin._ As his history filled and he started running low on the good ones, he'd ventured even further. _Real life relationship. Dating._ Things started to move away from his typical taste, rough, fast, impersonal, into videos that included a kissing introduction. He'd usually roll his eyes and skip forward to get to the good stuff, but Dean suddenly saw it in a new perspective. He didn't skip through those intros anymore.

It didn't happen as often these days, but sometimes a deep shame felt like it was peering over his shoulder, judging him for what was on his screen while his dick was in his hand.

His dad's homophobic threats, paired with the overwhelming desire to make him proud. A winning combination, truly.

They'd moved around so much when he and Sam were growing up, friends were hard to come by. Sam didn't seem to mind since he was always so focused on school, and he had Dean, and that was enough. But Dean was lonely, and wished and prayed that he could have a best friend. And in 4th grade, his wish came true. Charlie. He'd had blue eyes, not a deep shade like Cas's, but a light, sky blue. They were always the class clowns goofing around in school, cracking jokes that made them laugh so hard it cramped, and got them kicked out of class for time outs in the hallway. Dean still kept traces of that goofy humor he'd brought out of him, even all these years later.

That must have been the last time he'd had a crush so unbridled by guilt, how pure and bright that feeling had been. John was drunk one night and yelled that he was tired of hearing that name over and over, Charlie this and Charlie that, it was like Dean was a fucking queer. Dean didn't know what that word meant at the time, but whatever Dad said went. No questions. Dean only had to ignore Charlie for a painful two weeks before the family picked up and moved again, and he'd never figured out how to tell him why. He'd really hurt him, hadn't he... 

He wasn't much older than that when...

Dean squirmed. _Not this one-_

But it was too late. The seed had already been planted, and so the memory from the darkest recesses of his mind bubbled up to the surface.

Dad had been gone for too long, and it finally reached the point where they didn't have enough money for food. There was that seedy guy Jim who loitered outside the liquor store: he slipped Dean little gifts here and then, cans of lukewarm beer, cheap cigs. Dean didn't think he'd end up needing to, but here he was, going to him for help. Jim knew a way, but it wasn't a boy's work. It was a woman's work.

The feeling of Jim's calloused finger as he traced a circle around his lips, making sure his facial hair wasn't too obvious yet. The floral, waxy scent of red lipstick Dean applied in the bathroom mirror. Their two-stall setup with the glory hole in between, while Jim charged admission, and a hefty commission.

Other similar memories bubbled up in its wake, but before Castiel could see them he lifted his hand away, throwing the two of them back into the dimly lit surroundings of Dean's bedroom. 

Cas's hand pressed to Dean's heart where it was hammering away, chest heaving with his gasps for breath. Cas recognized these signs, Dean was on the verge of a panic attack, and he shot out healing energy. He hated that he was causing the man he loved so much distress.

"-Didn't know things would go south that damn quick." Dean tried to chuckle it off, but it was a pained laughter. His green eyes were glassy, and he quickly hid them away into his palms that scrubbed down his face. " _Fuck_ , that was all over the place."

"We don't have to do this," Castiel assured him. "Your mind is your own, Dean. Always." 

"...How about we try it the first way." Dean let out a tense breath and did the same thing as before, laid back down and rolled his shoulders to get settled into place. 

"I'm not quite sure what to look for." Cas admitted. 

"You'll find it, Cas." Dean found his hand once again and squeezed. "You can't _not_ find it." 

When Cas dove in for the second time to look with intention, Dean was right.

Cas could suddenly see it all, feel it all. It was hard to look directly, like staring into the sun.

Dean might have struggled to say it back, he even struggled to say those words to his own family, to his mother, his brother. But it was all there, just like Cas knew it would be. Just like Cas had told him in his dying words, that Dean was a loving man, and despite all the darkness he'd been dragged through in his life, it was blazing so bright within him. 

Love.

The angel's grace began to swirl, and Cas grunted. It was happening again, powerful waves of grace churning within his vessel. This time, the lights weren't on to give it away.

"Dean," Cas pleaded. _We need to stop,_ he wanted to say. But Dean said-

"Keep going," Dean pleaded right back. "Wantcha to see everything, while we still can."

So Cas held his grace back with all his strength, and kept looking.

The angel suddenly understood just how much every little touch had truly meant to Dean, each stolen glance. How much the angel had really been on his mind, even when he wasn't there. _Especially_ when he wasn't.

All those years of yearning, laid bare. It was hard to think about how many times they'd had the same thought running through their heads, but chosen to fight back against their magnetic pull. Why had they fought back? And for so long?

When Dean saw Cas with Jack, his surge of paternal emotion when he realized they were raising their son, together.

The comfortability the angel brought when he stepped into the room, his presence that made the Bunker feel like home.

He understood why Dean wanted to show him this way. His emotions were too powerful to translate to words.

Finally, it hit Cas, and he understood what was happening to him. His grace was preparing for another angel's light to enter it, to bond angelically with its lifemate.

"That ain't the half of it," Dean was smiling, he felt it as the angel dug around within his thoughts. "Keep going, Cas, or you're never getting it outta me."

Castiel felt his grace swirling hotter and faster inside his body, as if it were angry that the expectant foreign grace had not entered it yet. Cas stifled another moan and used all the strength he could to keep it inside. His grace was begging for release from his body, getting ready to rise up and seek its mate instead of waiting.

"Hey, Cas, buddy, you okay?" Dean's hand squeezed down with concern.

Cas's eyes were screwed tightly shut, and he was shaking. Still, even just the smallest amount leaked out and escaped.

"Cas... whoa. I think I can feel you." Dean's soul latched onto it, and Cas couldn't believe what he was feeling. A human's soul, it shouldn't have the ability to interact with an angel's like this.

Then, Dean's soul started _pulling him in._

There was only a split second before it burst all at once from his body, illuminating the room in bright white as it surged into the space Dean offered it. Cas gasped and reached for Dean's neck, tucking his head above shoulder right in time so his eyes wouldn't burn out.

His grace made contact with Dean's soul, and immediately stopped its rampaging advancement. With the first touch it instead stalled, calming itself. Cas got a grip once again, harnessing and keeping it in check as it guided gently on.

Dean's soul seemed to remember his grace by the way it shivered in recognition. Cas nudged at it, entering with a small, gentle push.

Dean bit down on the tender area where the neck meets the shoulder, hissing out a breath as Cas pushed deeper into his soul, wrapping around it, melting deeper into it. Cas explored farther, curling his fingers gently around the nape of Dean's neck that was damp with sweat. Dean's tiny soul shivered as the grace had almost fully wrapped around it now.

"Hello, Dean." Cas's words seemed to fall from his lips. This was the real, absolute core of Dean. He felt like saying hello, this was really only the second time he'd met him like this. The first being a long time ago, when he pulled this same soul from hell.

Dean whimpered as the grace began to unravel, bringing back into itself and getting ready to recede back into its own body.

Dean pressed desperately close to Cas's body.

"No- not yet." Dean grumbled, and not a second later Cas captured his lips, grace freely surging within his body.

Dean's eyelids parted just barely open to look at him in awe, white-blue grace was shining from within the center of his pupils. When he smiled elatedly at Cas, it shone from deep within his throat.

Cas had never seen anything like it.

No, he couldn't risk this any longer.

"Enough." Cas gathered himself up again, pulling away and separating from Dean's grace, receding like the pull of a wave as he ghosted over the bright, familiar soul. It throbbed on in the wake of his celestial touch. It was _his_ now. Castiel had claimed it, melted inside it, touched it for the second time. 

Cas was exhausted when the last of his grace retracted completely back into his body, both he and Dean were panting chest to chest.

"What just happened?" Dean's hand wandered to his heart. The last of the light burning orange inside was fading fast, casting red shadows of the ribcage that Castiel had carved wardings along with his name into long ago.

Cas gulped in breaths. "I'm sorry," He panted. "When we stopped before- it was doing the same thing. Trying to escape my vessel. I tried to stop it, but... you pulled me in."

Dean's expression changed as it suddenly dawned on him. "Holy shit. That was sex, wasn't it."

Cas's expression only further confirmed it.

"We just had mojo sex?!" Laughter Dean couldn't stop exploded out of him, bright teeth flashing white as he threw his head back. "Holy _shit_ , Cas!"

"The meeting of an angel's grace directly with a human's soul- something like that could have killed you." Castiel's serious eyes flicked to Dean's. "Did I hurt you?" 

"No," Dean got the message enough to be serious, even though he had to clear his throat first to keep it together. "I feel fine. Better than fine, actually, that was- I mean, that packed some serious punch." 

Cas was turned away, his posture hunched like he was ashamed.

"Hey," Dean's tone was tender as his hand slid over Cas's back to take his shoulder into his grip. "I'm fine. What we did- it felt good. Felt _right_." 

"I never should have put you in danger like that. I should have been able to control myself." Cas still hung his head. "Like you were saying. This won't be a problem anymore, once I'm human."

Dean's disappointed reaction gave away how much he was missing the point. He didn't seem to understand just how dangerous what they'd done was.

"I'm giving my Grace to the Empty. Now." Cas's voice rumbled low as he decided. "There's no sense in delaying the inevitable."

"Then I'm coming with you." Dean's growl dropped down low to match it. 

" _No_." Castiel scowled. "I have to do this on my own." 

"And what, I'm just gonna hang back and worry about you? Housewife waiting for her hubby to come home from war style? I don't think so, Cas. What happened to never losing you again?"

"Having you there might complicate things. I'm looking for an easy hand-off." Cas fought back again.

"Shouldn't we-" Dean seemed to be riding the high of what had just happened, eyes searching as he tried to process the fact that he would never feel it again. "I dunno, shouldn't we wait?"

"You showed me that humans are nothing like we were lead to believe. Your kindness, your love for others- you're the one who made me want to become human, Dean.” Cas was smiling again, just like he had when he'd said goodbye. "I'm ready to be human with you."

"Okay." Dean clasped onto his hands. Now that they could, it was like they just couldn't stop touching each other. "Then let's get this over with."

* * *

The Empty was unraveling, the poor ancient being was never meant to deal with the land of the living, it was by design meant to slumber on forever in peace. The two of them found it hunched over in its shadowy dimension, hiding away underneath a black shawl.

Still draped in Meg's image, all of the typical signs of fatigue on a human were showing on the facade. A deep color reminiscent of bruises made the eyes seem so sunken into their sockets, Meg's blonde hair crimped and tangled every which way in typical bedhead fashion. Its pissed off expression as its tired eyes slid to the pair holding hands was all to familiar to Dean, and only slightly more familiar to Cas. 

The two couldn't help but feel almost sorry for the entity, until they recalled everything it had put their family through recently. 

"We're not here for funny business." Dean grunted at it. "He's here to hand it over, no catch." 

"The abomination he calls his grace doesn't belong here." The Empty finally lowered part of its hood away, eyes shooting daggers at them from within their splotches of purple. "What you're offering me is tainted."

"Cas is handing you his Grace over on a silver platter, and you're telling us you don't want it?" Dean lashed right back, not realizing he was doing all the talking.

"Tell me, would you serve _this_ to a dinner guest?" The Empty waved a hand and a lavish spread appeared. Everything was rotted, the bouquet in the middle nothing but stems as dry as reeds, the oranges in a fruit bowl overtaken by fuzzy gray and blue mold, maggots wriggled within a T-bone steak and black potato dish. It was all silver dish ware- the "silver platter" expression taken literally. 

"Tainted." The Empty snarled. "I don't want tainted grace that reeks of humanity!"

"Wait, is this because we..." Dean didn't know exactly why he'd said that aloud, but he looked desperately to Cas for an explanation, for his reaction, anything. His grip was bone-crushing within the angel's, never wanting to let go. Not again. 

Cas had a pretty good idea about how this would end, but my was it lovely to see Dean's expressions of fear and devotion, then a heated determination. Like he would slaughter an ageless god for Cas, and was already figuring out how he go about doing it.

"Then I'll keep it far away from you." Cas finally spoke up for the first time, and took just one step closer. He was feeling brave with Dean at his side, and his voice reflected that strength. "You'll never see my grace again, and you can go back to sleep. In fact, Dean and I will protect you from being disturbed. You'll never have to wake up again."

Dean's brow twitched upward at the unexpected plan, but he stayed silent and then turned to looked forward again, giving Cas his trust. 

Meg's eyes slid skeptically from one man to the other. Somehow, it knew this was was only way things could pan out, their final deal. 

"Sleep?" It peeped, like a little kid. To reflect that emotion, it shapeshifted into what Meg must have looked like as a little girl in pajamas, hair so blonde it was white, but the child's eyes were still rimmed in thick darkness. 

"Sleep forever," Cas crooned, inching even closer. 

It aged down again into a baby zipped up into a onesie, peering at the two of them with chubby hands wrapped around the bars in its crib, hair barely a wisp on a mostly bald head.

Cas placed his hand over the baby's back, catching it as it de-aged and shrank down yet again into something pink and wrinkly and puffy around the eyes, a newborn or about as close to one as it got.

"Sleep now," Cas whispered, drawing a blanket up around it. The infant began sinking into the surround blackness, liquid ink climbing over it before was swallowed up and the Empty was finally still. 

"You'd make a great dad." Dean teased, anything to break the overwhelming silence that reverberated through the black dimension of the Empty. 

"I already am. To Jack." Cas grumbled back, offended.

"Of course you are." Dean chuckled. "Let's get out of here."

Dean was showing no signs of tiredness as he paced about the room, exhilarated by what they'd just managed to pull off.

"The _timing_." Dean insisted for the fifteen time. "It must have been Jack, if he absorbed all of Chuck's power. That's the only explanation."

Dean paced the other way, mouth still motorboating. "I mean, imagine what would have gone down if we _didn't_ have mojo sex, Cas-"

"It wasn't "mojo sex"." Cas couldn't hold it in any longer after listening to Dean let out steam for the past few minutes. "It's a bond." 

"Kinda got that," Dean snorted in reply. "The Empty didn't want something I touched with my grimy human hands." 

"Dean, please..." Cas was getting upset. "I'm trying to explain that-" He swallowed, gearing up, a habit he'd picked up from Dean.

Dean finally was quiet now, shining green eyes inquisitive as he turned to Cas. 

"It's a lifelong bond." Cas continued, very serious.

"Yeah, I didn't peg angels for the promiscuous type." Dean joked, and Castiel had to remind himself that if Dean was kidding around, it often meant he was happier than usual.

"My grace claimed you." Cas continued with another approach, voice rumbling on low. 

"Mmm, kinda like the sound of that. Say it again?" 

Cas's lips parted to repeat himself, but he closed them again in frustration, not sure whether or not he was being literal. In the time it took him to triple think it, Dean already was scooping him in, crowding his face in close. All of Cas's irritation dissolved at the pressure of his arms, the warmth of being held close. 

"Something like this would have shared the shit outta me, before." Dean was smiling. "Cas, I've never felt something more right than what we did. I've known you were it for me, for a long time now." 

They laid side by side on the bed, sharing a few more sweet kisses, wet like biting into ripe fruit, hands roaming. The durations between each kiss stretched out more and more, until they simply rested, cuddling in a horizontal hug. 

"I wasted so much time." Dean sighed, their noses nudging against the other as he spoke. "All those _fucking_ years- we could have- this whole time-" 

"No, Dean. There wasn't any time wasted." Cas reassured him, smoothing the pad of his thumb along Dean's jawline. "Every second of the past eleven years, they lead to where we are now. What we'll be next." 

"I'm sorry." Dean muttered. "I'm sorry for making you wait so long, Cas." 

"For you Dean, I'd wait forever." Cas said so damned earnestly that Dean planted a kiss on him so suffocating he came up gasping for air.

"You should sleep, Dean." Cas purred in the same tone that had been able to lull the Empty to sleep. "I'll be here in the morning. And every morning that comes after."

"Mm. Loop coffee into that and we have ourselves a deal." Dean sure was cracking a lot of jokes, Cas thought. It must have meant he was feeling very happy.

"Goodnight, Dean." Cas pulled him in close. He'd never pictured it going this way, him as the larger spoon, but now that it was happening it felt perfect.

"G'nite, Cas."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No matter what happens in the finale, we all know their love is real and forever canon ♡  
> Thanks for reading and happy finale-ing, friends! :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Discussions about feelings, and more grace sex :) I promise I'll write these two out of Dean's bedroom by the next chapter, lol. Thanks for reading!

"Good morning, Dean." Castiel's rumbly voice cut through the silence.

It could be hard to tell the time of day in a windowless room, but Dean's internal clock pointed toward _early_. Dean stirred in bed, eyes squinting as he peered through his lashes at Cas. The angel was seated ramrod straight at the edge of his bed, a steaming mug in hand. The smile his plush lips arched into was subtle, he might not have been aware of it as he gazed lovingly down at Dean. Damn, what a sight to greet him first thing, Dean thought. He could get used to this.

That was when Dean felt it- a strong surge of emotion washing over him like a tide, the foreignness of it made his head swim. Dean remembered everything they'd done last night in a rush, that they'd forged an angelic bond just in time to save Cas from giving his grace over to the Empty. The bond had a strange new effect: he found that he knew exactly where Cas would be if he were to reach out and touch him, even with his eyes shut. It was eerie, as if he'd grown a new body part overnight. Just like he'd always know where his pinky finger was, it was like he could feel Cas's presence in the same way.

"Mornin'," Dean rubbed the crustiness out of an eye, pulled himself into a seated position with the warm blankets pooling in his lap. " 'Time is it," He grunted, the fragrant smell of the roasted coffee climbing into his nostrils. Dean made grabby hands for it, and Cas passed it off to him.

"It's six... I admit I was getting impatient waiting for you to wake up. Sam was in the kitchen, he was very happy to see me. I'm not sure why he's awake, he seemed... worried."

Dean buried his nose into the mug and took a slurp, ending it with a satisfied _ahh_ , then held it so the warmth could seep through the ceramic into his palms. "Did Sammy tell you why?" 

"No," Cas eyed the mug with a look of mild disgust. "I'm not sure why you enjoy that. It tastes awful to me."

Dean chuckled at that, took another swig and placed it down on his nightstand.

"Acquired taste, I guess." He muttered, as Cas's eyes roved Dean's body, that intensity deep within them that had always been there.

This time, Dean made grabby hands for Cas. The angel broke into a grin and flopped on top of him, pinning him with his body, squeezing him tight into a full-body hug over the blankets, legs slotting into the gaps. Dean was reminded of the enthusiastic way that Miracle would leap into his bed to greet him in the mornings.

Dean grabbed Cas's head over the ears and pulled him in, rapidly pecking at his lips what felt like twenty times in quick succession.

"You know I was kidding about the coffee, right?" Dean's eyes were laughing when he let go. Cas hovered within that intimate space as they shared the same air. 

"I know. But I was feeling antsy waiting for you to wake up, and I wanted something to keep my hands busy." 

"What, staring at me sleeping wasn't entertaining enough for you?" Dean teased. "Hasn't stopped you before."

"I wanted to wake you so many times throughout the night," Cas admitted shyly. He slipped off from on top of Dean and laid beside him. "I was impatient to spend our first day bonded together. Can you feel the changes like I do?" Cas's blue eyes had gone all narrow and sultry like they tended to do.

His hand skimmed over the dip in Dean's side and finally came to a rest over Dean's hipbone. Even though it was over the hem of his boxers and a layer of blankets, it might as well have not been. It felt intimate, like it was really bare skin. Dean felt a blush spread hot over his face, neck, chest, ears.

Dean could only nod as he turned to face him, eyes never leaving those pair of cobalt blues. He felt speechless by the idea that this man, scratch that, this _angel_ , loved him. Wanted him, just the way he was. That they were bonded now, whatever that meant. The hand curled around his hip was such a simple touch, yet its warmth and pressure commanded so much of Dean's attention.

"What can you feel, Dean?" Cas nearly purred. The intimate question lingered while the angel smudged at his cheek with his other hand, thumb tracing tenderly along his scruffy jawline. Dean felt even more warmth creep into his cheeks at being touched like that, so damned _tenderly_. 

"You." Dean began. "I can feel where you are. And I felt- _something_ , from you, when you handed me my coffee."

"Arousal?" 

"No," Dean's eyes dropped. "Pretty sure it was deeper than that."

"But you're aroused now." Cas's voice rumbled on low. "Your body wants to make love..." Cas's hand slipped under the covers to press over the tented front of Dean's boxers, and Dean honest-to-God squeaked.

Dean laughed huskily as if it could make up for the girlish sound. " _Jesus_ , Cas, you always find the weirdest way to say it. It's called a morning wood."

Cas's eyes dropped, his shame clear in his expression, and he started to clamber off the bed. 

"Cas- wait." Dean sputtered, kicking off the covers and reaching to take his wrist. He squeezed in a pulse, his way of saying _don't go_. "Sorry. It's just- all- really new. This. Us." He motioned between both of their chests, then let his hand fall with a slap to his thigh. Cas readjusted, sat facing Dean with his legs folded underneath him.

"Our love is not new." Cas seemed confused, eyes pinching together accompanied by that signature head tilt of his.

"-I'm talking about the physical stuff." Dean said with a nervous throat clearing. What the hell was making him act like a blushing virgin all of the sudden?

"I've loved you since I first touched your soul in Hell." Cas didn't let it deter him from speaking his truth, his hand finding and squeezing down over Dean's. "You felt that, didn't you? When we bonded. Our souls recognized one another." 

"Yeah. I did." Dean's voice dropped down low, and he flipped his hand over and squeezed in a gentle pulse back. And just like that, they were holding hands. 

"When I found you in Hell and told you why I was there, that it was my duty to raise you from perdition, you struggled against me. You said it was where you _belonged_ , that torturing souls was the only thing that felt right." Cas turned away, jaw rippling as he bit down, squeezing down on their intertwined hands. Clearly, the memory pained him, and Dean felt a dull twang come through their bond. "I knew that wasn't true. Your soul was so bright, so full of love, even underneath the corruption of Hell. It shone through the cracks, and I... knew. I knew then, that you'd change me. That our fates were intertwined."

Dean reached for him, pulled him in and buried his face into his chest, gripping onto the back of his shirt with his hands in fists. The angel wrapped his arms around him right back, waited for him to speak.

"I-" Dean swallowed. He hadn't thought about Hell in a while, and it hurt. "Uh. Can't remember any of that." 

"I erased that part from your memory," Cas admitted softly. "I didn't want it to burden you upon your return to Earth. You already had memories of taking up the knife, I couldn't let you think that too. That torturing souls on the rack was the only thing that felt right." 

Cas's fingertips trailed down Dean's bare chest, releasing some much-needed healing energy after a conversation that dug up painful memories.

 _Say something_ , Dean's mind screamed at him. He remembered how much he regretted being tongue-tied during Cas's confession, how much it haunted him that he couldn't get anything out before it was too late. He could use his words, he knew he could. He had to try, for Cas.

"I'm the opposite, I think." Dean began, passing the tip of his tongue over his lips as he geared up to spill his guts. "I thought you were a dick when we first met, just like all the other angels with sticks up their asses. It was because of everything we went through together, that made you family, that made you my best friend. But then, that changed too, and best friend just- didn't cut it anymore." His voice dropped even softer. "I wanted to kiss you so many goddamn times over the years I lost count." 

He lifted his eyes to see Cas listening patiently, that same subconscious smile on his face. He could sense that Dean wasn't done yet and wanted to let him talk, to clear the pipes after years of buildup of his self-proclaimed 'emotional constipation'.

"I had this- mental checklist." That sweet smile gave Dean the strength to keep going. "If I was gonna end up with someone, they had to be in this kind of life already. Full stop. I couldn't drag someone into this, ever. We'd have each other's backs, hell, we'd die for each other. We'd be in it for the long haul. I guess I had some physical shit on that list, too- y'know." 

"Breasts." Cas deadpanned. "You seem to be a fan of those."

Dean laughed.

"I found them uncomfortable." Castiel continued. "But so is a penis. Internal sex organs feel more... protected."

"What the hell're you talking about, Cas?" Dean stopped in his tracks.

"In 1901, I had my first mission on Earth. I took a female vessel." Cas dropped the bomb as casual as could be.

" _What?!_ " Dean's brows nearly shot up to his hairline.

"I never mentioned this?" Cas seemed genuinely confused. "Hm. I must have told Sam when you weren't there." 

"Why would you tell Sam this and not _me?_ " Dean caught himself in a full-blown whine. 

"It didn't seem worth mentioning." Okay, now Cas was just teasing him, laughter shining in his eyes.

"Anyway. You being a chick once aside-" Dean chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief as he interrupted himself with: "You were really a chick once?" 

"Dean..." Cas used his very specific warning tone.

"Alright, alright. As I was saying... one day, it just hit me. That _you_ checked everything off that list, Cas. You were the one I'd been looking for, it was right in front of me that whole time. I can't give you the exact time it happened, 'cause it wasn't at first sight like you. I guess I didn't notice it happening, until it was just..." Dean hated calling the love he felt _it_. He cleared his throat nervously. "The love was just... there."

Cas used both hands to cradle his face before closing the gap and landing a gentle press of his lips to Dean's. They parted with a quiet click.

"You're beautiful Dean." Castiel's voice rumbled. "When I summoned the Empty with my confession, I was thinking about how beautiful you are. How you always have been. Body and soul." 

It was no mystery to Dean that he was attractive. He'd navigated his whole life knowing this. It was apparent in the way people responded to him, the looks he got, the ease he had in pulling one night stands, that 'pretty boy' was used about him so often it became something like a nickname. Something about the fact that Cas said he fell for his _soul_ first, even when it was scorched and ragged after decades in Hell... the compliment hit differently.

 _Body and soul,_ Cas's words echoed in Dean's mind. It wasn't about his looks, Dean mused. For once. It was almost ironic, the thing he considered his greatest quality hadn't mattered at all when it came to Cas falling for him.

An Angel of the Lord, falling for _him_.

This time, the shame that washed over him didn't have anything to do with the homophobia his father had drilled in deep. It came from the fact that a pure being made of literal light had bled, fought and died, killed other angels, all for an unworthy human like him. A human whose soul had been ravaged by Hell, been corrupted by the Mark of Cain, a human who had done nothing but push Cas's feelings aside and blame him when things went wrong.

When they'd broken up the last time, Dean had been terrified that it was for good. Because he'd treated Cas like shit, he knew that now. He'd always looked to him to be a tool to get what they wanted, and berated him when he was too weak to use his powers. Didn't agree when Cas was only trying to protect their shared son.

Dammit, he'd been such an asshole.

Cas didn't deserve to be treated like that.

Could Dean ever be the man he deserved?

He _still_ hadn't said those three little words back to him, when Cas had died for him, sacrificed himself for what they both thought would be the last time. That was the least he could do, just say it back...

It struck Dean that he hadn't said a word for the past several minutes as he was lost in his own head. 

"Sorry," Dean rasped, wiping at his mouth nervously. "-Thoughts are all over the place."

"I can sense that. Your thoughts are muddled, like a flood stirring everything up from below." Cas's expression was strained. "Please. Let me help." 

"How?" Dean whispered, green eyes flicking up to meet blue.

"By going inside of you again." The expression on Cas's face was intense. "If my grace can heal your soul, it might help ease your psychological pain. Your soul was able to bond to me, I'm convinced my grace can't harm you now. Would you like that, Dean?" Cas asked, placing his hand over Dean's handprint scar, right where it belonged.

"Yeah," Dean said huskily, feeling every bit as delicate as Cas was treating him.

Fuck, he wasn't used to being vulnerable like this. He wasn't used to giving up control. Especially in the bedroom, he'd always felt like he was supposed to bring a domineering confidence into it, some kind of dumb macho swagger. That was all a stupid act.

For once, he just wanted to be taken care of.

"Hold me while we do this," Dean clamped down onto smaller fingers, wedged between his own. "Like you did last night. Please."

Without a moment to lose, the angel's arms wrapped him up securely, chest up against his back, knees pressing into the backs of Dean's, the two curling in close as they slotted together like pieces of a puzzle.

Now that they had bonded, Dean could feel things in ways he never had before. He could feel Cas's grace welling up to the surface and his soul arched toward it, needy to feel him inside again. Dean felt as if it was turning itself inside out, the Hell-calloused parts on the outside folding in and exposing the softer light contained within. It was opening up, like it was blooming. Yearning once again for the grace it had bonded to.

Dean sighed at the strange sensation. His soul was straining toward Cas, so Dean let it go. Castiel gasped quietly as they met in the middle.

It seemed the angel wasn't satisfied with their spooning any longer. He sat up and swung a leg over Dean, straddling his hips between his pair of lean thighs. Shit, it was hot to see him in his lap like this, Dean thought as his hands found his waist. Their faces drew in together, like magnets, so instinctive. Cas could live in that space just above his lips if he wanted to, Dean thought. He'd always been drawn to be close to Dean, to pop that personal bubble, ever since the very beginning.

Stubble scratched against his cheek as Cas leaned in to whisper in his ear. He didn't mind the sensation as much this time. It was something that just felt like _Cas_ to him. Maybe he’d even grow to like it, some day. He hoped he would.

"No human's soul should be able to move like that." Castiel whispered. "You shouldn't have been able to pull me in, before. But you did."

Cas's grace moved like water, tiny waves of it lapped along the surface of Dean's soul. It was the metaphorical tip of Cas's grace-dick, Dean thought amusedly. He knew he was holding back.

"It's okay, Cas. I can take it." Dean sensed his hesitation, found his hand again and sank his fingers into the gaps. "Don't you hold back on me."

As their lips finally collided, the angel's grace surged hot into his chest. Dean couldn't help but cry out at the searing heat, back arching up off the bed at the sensation of being penetrated past his flesh and bone, reaching deep into his very soul.

"-Fuck," Dean panted, and to his dismay felt the grace recede in an instant.

"Are you alright?" Cas had a concerned expression on his face as he sat back into Dean's lap.

Dean's soul began to shiver in the absence, the part Cas's grace had touched felt like wet skin in windy air. It _needed_ to connect again, it couldn't stand the feeling of being half-touched like this.

"Please," Dean whimpered. "Please, Cas. Get in here."

"If you're certain." Cas took in a tense breath, coiled up his grace within his chest, and pushed.

Dean threw his head back this time, neck arching, moaning with abandon. There was some burn to it, but the pleasure overwhelmed that tenfold.

 _Castiel,_ Dean prayed the name. He knew he'd be able to hear him loud and clear. _This feels so damn good._

He could feel himself growing harder at the sensation, that signature warmth building up in his lower abdomen. It was only accelerated by Cas practically sitting on his dick, he could feel each tiny drag of friction.

The grace melted farther and farther until it finally filled Dean up all the way, not even the darkest corner of his soul was untouched. Cas had fully expanded his light into every crevice of his soul. 

Then came the overspill.

At first it was like he was the yolk to Cas's egg white, but then there was more. So much more, flooding in. Dean's soul was small, Dean finally realized. So damn small compared to Castiel's vast grace. He remembered how he'd once said he was like the Chrysler building, and Dean's soul was like a man waiting in the lobby. But no, he was even bigger than that. Dean was a sailboat lost within the massive sea of grace, then he was a pinpoint star in Cas's galaxy. It was bending his mind as Cas just kept growing around him, further and further.

"You're huge," Dean whispered, realizing it sounded like the cheesiest _that's what she said_ joke.

At first Dean didn't know how to feel about grace being within his soul, but physically it was another story. He felt... full. Whole, complete, he couldn't find the perfect words to describe the pure fullness and sense of belonging it brought.

He felt Cas's grace searching his, finding a spot, and pooling around one of the most blackened, knotted parts of his soul. The touch was loving, and Dean moaned softly as Cas smoothed it over and over.

"Hmm." Dean hummed a low note, eyes fluttering shut. "That feels real nice, Cas."

Cas leaned forward until their noses brushed, then their sandpapery cheeks brushed as he leaned in to speak into his ear. "I'm happy to bring you pleasure Dean— to know I'm taking care of my human.”

If that wasn't just about the hottest thing Dean had ever heard. The possessive way he'd growled 'my' turned him on like nothing else, the way he set himself apart from humans, because he wasn't one. Wait, did he have a creature kink? Somewhere deep down, Dean had always known a regular human wouldn't cut it.

The angel got a gentle fistful of sandy hairs and Dean's head tipped back as Castiel captured his lips deeply. The angel's hands roamed his chest, wandered down his sides, pulled him in by the waist. Friction built as Dean's boner rubbed over Cas's bulge, he hadn't noticed until now that angel was hard in his pants too.

Pleasure rushed up on Dean faster than it had in a while, turns out having grace sex with the love of his life was reverting him right back into being a randy teenager.

The sound of their elevated breathing was the only noise scratching through the room. Dean hand's squeezed at his angel's hips as they rutted against each other.

" _Oh_ ," Cas moaned, brows pinched together, like he was discovering something brand new. Thighs firmly bracketing Dean's hips, Cas's head tipped back to the ceiling and he swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing along his pale throat just below where his dark stubble faded away. His hips made a slow, purely instinctual roll against Dean's boxer bulge. "Oh, Dean-"

Dean swore and writhed beneath him, he couldn't believe this scene straight out of a wet dream was really happening. He knew he wasn't going to last for much longer.

"Cas," Dean grunted as a warning. His orgasm was quickly approaching its highest peak, his hips snapping chasing it.

 _Please_ , the angel's voice came from within Dean’s head. Their nonverbal communication was no longer a one-way street, it seemed that Cas could pray right back at Dean now. _I want to see you let yourself go._

" _Cas-_ " Dean choked on his name. His head tossed back, hips stuttering as he finally went over the edge and came hard into his boxers. With one last final twitch, his dick flopped upward to rest on his belly against its wet swatch, stated and warm.

Dean felt Cas's grace recede, savoring it one last time as it dragged across his soul's surface before lifting away. Dean's soul glowed red from within his chest, it felt like skin fresh out of scalding bathwater. 

They stared at each other dazedly, huffing softly. Castiel sat back on Dean's thighs and watched as the last of the light faded away from deep within his chest, taking in the view proudly like it was an accomplishment.

Dean's soul still felt so warm, his body melting with afterglow at the same time. Dean closed his eyes, letting himself feel the difference in his soul. The tatters he'd always known felt smoothed out. He felt _great_ , actually. Renewed.

 _Took real good care of me here, angel._ Dean didn't dare say something that sappy aloud. _Body and soul._

"You reached orgasm." Cas stated, not even trying to hide his shock.

"Hell yeah I did," Dean's ribs flared as he caught his breath, flashed his angel a warm smile from flat on his back under him, hands wrapping around his hipbones.

“Good,” Cas encouraged, leaning in and sweetly cradling one side of his face in the curve of his palm. "I... wasn't sure if I could give you one. You have so much sexual experience, and I don't." 

"Fuck, Cas. You really thought that?" Dean's heart gave a painful squeeze.

Cas didn't reply, only nodded, his lips pressed into a solemn line.

" 'Course you can make me come, Cas. Damn, you turn me on. Didn't you see how many times I jacked off imagining the guy in the porno was you?" Dean's smile crinkled up the corners of his eyes. He slipped his hand up the nape of the angel's neck, tufts of dark hair sticking out between his fingers.

"Masturbation is different, isn't it?" Cas asked.

"You ever get off thinking about me?" Dean was feeling cocky as he asked with a quirk of his brow. 

Cas made a shy dip of his head. "When I was human, there were... dreams," He began, hesitant. 

"And...?" Dean prompted.

Cas just blinked back at him. 

"Dude, you're telling me you don't-" Dean couldn't wrap his head around it. Even back when old wives' tales came true, he still couldn't resist for very long and wound up getting hairy palms. So to go for _years_ in a human body and not give it a try even once, he couldn't make sense of it.

"This is what I meant." Cas huffed, shoulders sagging.

"What about when you had sex with April?" Dean remembered, and that stabbing feeling of jealousy was much less of a mystery now. 

"I didn't-" Cas swallowed. His eyes flicked to Dean's, begging him to finish the sentence for him so he wouldn't have to.

"You didn't come?!" Dean's brows raised high. 

Cas looked away, bit down on his jaw. His shoulders drooped even more. 

"Hey," Dean's voice went soft, his hand found his shoulder and squeezed down in reassurance. "I'm not making fun of you, okay? It looks like we're starting from square zero with you, so what?" 

Cas's eyes finally met his again, they were droopy and sorrowful in a way that hurt bad.

"Look, I'm _glad_ you didn't finish with that Reaper sonofabitch. She didn't deserve it." Dean hugged him, he just couldn't stand that look on his face. "And it's not- Stop thinking about it as a bad thing, Cas. It's not. I'll show you how, okay?" Dean swallowed. "Kinda always wanted to be the one to show you how."

They cuddled for a moment, before the mess in his underwear bothered Dean too much, he must not have blown a load in his pants like that since he was in high school. He swung his legs over the side and told Cas he was going to hit the showers. When he opened his bedroom door, Miracle was right there waiting, asleep with his nose firmly pointed at the door. One of these days he was going to give in and let the stinky little guy sleep on the bed, he knew. But not just yet.

The mutt's big brown eyes sleepily met Dean's, and his moppy tail swept along the floor in two low energy wags. His ears perked when he noticed someone on Dean's bed, and Cas tilted his head too. 

"I, uh. Got a dog." Dean felt silly introducing the two of them, but he'd never had a dog and didn't quite know how something like this was meant to go. "Named 'im Miracle." 

The pup nudged his way into the room and bounded onto the bed, where Cas began to stroke his fur. 

"He's very happy to be here." Cas said. He found a sweet spot, setting Miracle's leg thumping. "He's led a hard life up until now."

"I'll let you two get acquainted, then." Dean laughed.

The hot spray of water was just what he needed, and Dean sighed as it slipped down his shoulders and steam billowed around him. He could still feel Cas, existing rooms away.

"Man, it's gonna be weird telling Sam about this." Dean told the silver shower head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello sweet readers :)
> 
> I don't usually put personal stuff into my fic notes, but I've been feeling down about my writing lately. There's this sci-fi original story I'm working on that's only 35 pages, but it's kicking my ass. All the editing, workshopping, researching 3 act structure... all it's doing is breaking it further. The writing just isn't working, and it feels super forced.
> 
> So, I wanted to continue this fic because it's within my comfort of comfort zones. A Destiel love story that's going to reuse some ideas from past fics, and pay no mind to act structure, I'm just going to let it flow. I hope writing this indulgently can bring back some kind of spark for writing that I've lost recently. And, I wanted to give these characters the proper ending that they very much deserve. So this will be that story :)
> 
> I really hope you enjoy what this becomes! And thanks so much for listening ♥️


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I couldn't believe the show ended without resolving the fact that Dean said Jack wasn't family and he disappeared never to be seen again??? Time to fix that, because he is such a good addition to the team :) Plus I found a cute screencap from the show to go with it!

Miracle was fast asleep curled up in Cas's lap. He sleepbarked a few muffled yips, paws twitching. The angel continued to stroke at his curly flank, peering into his sweet and simple dream of splashing around a riverbank.

Dean's rush to the showers wasn't just about his boxers- truthfully, he hadn't washed up in a while. Castiel knew he'd been in bad shape, he'd let his pit of depression consume him, which included neglected showers. It made no difference to Cas- similar to his sense of taste, scents and odors were all just molecules to him. However, grooming had always meant a lot to Dean, so the angel was happy to see he was returning to healthy habits.

 _Miracle is sleeping on me. You were lucky to find each other when you did. He helped you when I was gone, didn’t he?_ Cas sent his prayer to Dean, who was lathering himself up.

Selfishly, Cas wished he would hurry. The distance between them was putting a mild strain on their newfound bond, and the angel had the urge to get up and wander through the Bunker's halls, shrug the coat from his shoulders, unbutton his shirt and let it drop to his heels, step out of his slacks, join Dean within the shower's warm spray...

However, he resisted.

 _Yeah, he did help. More than he knows. Wait, is he on my bed?_ Dean's reply came down the line.

 _Yes._ Cas lifted an ear, let go, and watched it flop back down.

_He's a stinky boy, and I'm trying to train him not to- alright. I'll run a load. Should do one today anyway._

After a few moments of silence, Dean's thoughts came through their bond once again. _Cas? This is... pretty badass, that we can do this now._

The angel didn't have to see him to know the exact type of smile his human would have on. Cas's lips pulled into a subtle smile at the thought of it. _I think so too, Dean_.

He could sense some of Dean's thoughts returning to him while he took his shower. Most of them were purely visuals, Dean was looping over and over the way Cas had thrown his head back and moaned his name as he'd ground his hips down over his growing bulge. 

_That feeling was pleasant,_ Cas sent to him _. I’d like to feel it again._

 _I didn't know you could see that, heh. But my dick needs a break here, Cas_. Dean replied jovially. _Don't even think I'm out of my refractory period yet._

That made the angel recall way Dean had looked as he came, pinned beneath him with the angel's thighs bracketing his hips. Dean's sultry eyelids hung halfway over his green gaze, the spark in his eyes knowing well what came next.

The way he'd thrown his head back into his pillow, brows pinching, hands gripping down around Cas's waist while his breath caught around pink lips.

In the pornos Dean had put himself in the shoes of the man who was rough, pinning other men down, pounding into them. Not lying beneath them, not the gentle and slow pace the two of them had set with their hips.

There was none of the swearing or exaggerated moans either, just the plain yet erotic sound of their breaths overlapping, a sound Cas found he really enjoyed.

The memory traveled right over to Dean. Castiel saw that despite his claims, he was growing harder, stroking loosely into his slippery palm, his penis pink under a coating of soap suds.   
  
_I feel like I just sent you a dick pic with my mind,_ Dean joked. _So awesome._

The visual was doing something to him, and Cas squirmed. His palm pressed against his growing erection, he let out a soft hiss.

This was what they'd talked about. Arousal, something so mysterious to him. He didn’t know when he’d passed enough over from asexual angel to horny human, truthfully he still felt he was floating somewhere in between.

 _You’re arousing me,_ Cas’s tone was almost as if he were being inconvenienced.

 _So we’re going there, huh?_ Dean dove right in. _Wish you were in here with me, Cas. The things we'd do..._

Dean pictured them both in the showers, tiles all around. He had quite the imagination, the details of his fantasy were striking. Cas's head of black hair dripping wet and they held onto one another at the waist, while Dean’s hand went to work between them, cocks swollen and sensitive as the undersides rubbed together, pumping between Dean’s fist.

 _Please,_ Cas was panting now. He hadn’t seemed to figure out anything past applying pressure to his groin. _I need you to touch me. Bring me closer, like before._

 _I’ll do a lot better than closer._ Dean’s flirty reply shot even more heat directly into his groin. _I'll take you over the edge. I want to make you come, Cas._

Cas clamped down for dear life. _Dean, I need you..._

 _Cas?_ Dean’s tone quickly flipped to concern.

 _My body needs you._ Cas pleaded. _Please_.

 _Shit,_ Dean replied. _Okay_. _Crap_ \- _I'm on my way, okay?_

Relief flooded into Cas when Dean finally flung open the door, a towel twisted around his waist, his uncombed hair dripping wet, making it a much darker color than it usually was. 

Dean shut the bedroom door behind him.

"Mir," Dean snapped and pointed to a dog bed in the corner of the room. "Go on boy, go to bed." 

Miracle jumped down, spun in a few circles in preparation before curling into the dog bed in a furry ball, tail over his nose. Some of the fur rustled with each breath.

As Dean came closer, he tugged away the towel from his hips and tossed it to the floor. The sight of Dean’s nakedness made a tidal wave of arousal pulse through Cas. He watched with wide eyes as Dean climbed onto the bed with his knees, pressed his face in close and kissed him.  
  
“‘M here, Cas.” Dean reassured him in a whisper, cupped at his cheek. "Never should have left you in the first place."

Dean’s free hand snaked back behind Cas's head and gripped down onto that same tuft of hair he always did, the tugging on his roots prickled. Their foreheads bumped then stayed pressed against each other's, and both of their eyelids closed as their heated breaths brushed each other's faces.

"I've blue-balled you enough already," Dean joked. Then, his tone did a 180, suddenly turning sultry and serious. "You want the real thing, Cas? You wanna come?"

"Yes," The angel spoke into his lips, faces floating mere inches apart.

Dean smirked, and began to undo his shirt one button at a time. Dean wadded it up and tossed it to the floor to join his towel, and Cas found himself lying shirtless on his back.

Dean sank even lower on his haunches, skimmed a hand over his black happy trail and unbuckled his belt, pulled down his black slacks.

All Dean used was his thumb, rubbing the head of his penis through his boxers, over and over. His expression was hidden by the angle of his face, his brow ridge with that arched eyebrow obscuring his eyes, his nose pointed downward.

The rhythm he set was relentless. Cas gasped softly, hips bucking into the sweet pressure building up inside of him. Dean encouraged more movement of his hips, his other hand snaking behind him and lifting in time, guiding Cas to thrust into Dean's hand. 

How could he be doing this, sending these powerful waves through his body, with the use of just one finger?

"Dean..." Cas moaned, eyes snapping shut. This already felt so different than anything else he'd done, because this was _Dean_ touching him like this. This was the man he'd been hopelessly in love with for years.

"Can I take these off too?" Dean asked sweetly, and at the angel's rapid nodding he slipped the boxers down off his legs. 

Both of them were naked now, and Dean propped himself over him, caging him in with his body. The angel was rendered speechless, eyes fixated on Dean's from under him. His breathing spiked, flaring his ribs.

 _Don't be nervous_ , Dean prayed to him. _I got you, Cas._

Castiel reminded himself that his body contained muscle memory: this gifted body had been what fathered Claire, after all. And extending past his body's individual experience, there were thousands of years of humanity built into it, into every nerve ending, as he joined in on the dance they'd all done, at some point.

 _Try closing your eyes._ Dean's guiding words were gentle. _I don't want you overthinking this._ _Imagine you're on the beach, or something._

Castiel let his eyes fold closed, but the only "beach" that came to mind was ancient. He imagined himself laying down just as he was now, naked, on top of a massive stromatolite. Sun-warmed water lapped at his skin, the coral-like column was only a few inches from the sea's surface. He felt incredibly calm in the presence of one of Earth's most ancient lifeforms, at the simplicity of the planet then. Just sky, just sea.

His serene moment was short-lived. He noticed something happening to the microorganisms floating in the water, and he scooped himself a handful. Within his palm he watched as they spontaneously grew like pieces of popcorn, some growing bigger and becoming more complex, while others blinked out of existence. Their discarded shell-like bodies began to build up beneath him, until he found himself lifted onto a primitive sandy shore.

These were all the years the angel had watched over Earth.

A fish was swimming toward him, growing and changing with each flick of its tail. Finally it reached the shore and hauled itself onto the sand. How relieved Castiel was now, that he hadn't gone with his impulse to squash it back then!

It continued its path, crawling closer, what started small and mammalian grew, and morphed, its evolving body roughly began to resemble something hominoid. It finally lifted onto two legs, then sped through a family line, different yet distinctly human faces flashing by. It drew in so close to his lips, and stopped changing. 

It was finally Dean.

Castiel's eyes folded open to find him in the exact same spot, hovering just above him.

Dean was speechless, as any human would be after witnessing their own becoming.

"I've been waiting for you Dean," Cas's loving eyes pierced deeply into his human's, crooking an arm around his back. "For a long, long time." 

Dean was ignited from what he'd said, doubling down on his efforts to get him there. Cas shuddered at the wave of pleasure that passed through his body, the most powerful one yet. It wrenched a guttural moan out from his throat and left eddies of warmth in its wake, swirling between his hips, pleasure lapping at his thighs. As much as he loved looking into Dean's eyes, he screwed his own tightly shut, overwhelmed by the way it felt.

Each wave had been more powerful than the last, pleasure building higher and higher. He understood now why it was a _climax_ , he felt like his pleasure couldn't possibly build any higher, that he was bursting with it. It was only a matter of time before it crested and broke into white water, sea foam, semen. 

" _Dean_ ," he gasped again, like it was the only word he knew. His back arched and with a soft cry he began to come, hips stuttering in arrhythmic thrusts as his seed striped up onto his own stomach, spurt after spurt.

He melted into Dean's arms, feeling boneless and vulnerable, huffing hard. Dean drew him in close, pressing kiss after kiss to his hair, his face, his feverishly hot neck.

"You did so good, Cas." Dean assured him, voice nothing but a rumble as he spoke softly into his hair, dragging his hands all over his body as his body shuddered with the last of the residual pleasure. "Jesus, you're so fucking beautiful."

After holding him close for another for a moment, Dean rolled off of him. Cas kept his eyes shut, only opening them when he felt Dean blotting and dragging his still-damp towel over his chest and stomach, cleaning him up.

 _Thank you,_ Cas whispered into his mind. Dean leaned down to share yet another kiss with him, one hand sneaking behind him and peeling his lower back off of the sweat-damp sheets, cooler air introduced to the humid pocket that had formed there. Cas sighed at the sensation, going pliant into Dean's arms. 

Cas felt so _loved_ in that moment, the feeling that ballooned within his chest was intense. There was no stopping it from thrumming through their bond over to Dean. It seemed they couldn't hide these feelings from each other any more. It was almost karmic, considering how many years they'd shied away from telling the other how they really felt. 

Cas felt boneless as he leaned against the headboard, his body felt like it was glowing, radiating heat. He soaked in the sensation as he drank in Dean, who continued to drag a corner of the towel over every bit of cum on his torso.

Dean Winchester, his beautiful lifemate. Who was not another angel, but _human_. Whose soul would be forever intertwined within his grace. 

Dean must have sensed him staring a hole into the back of his head, because his eyes flicked up to meet his. Dean's hand traveled from a pec, up to his collarbone and past the meat of his neck, four fingers curled around to cradle base of his neck within his palm.

The slide of his hand left Cas shuddering, the seam of his mouth parting open, head subconsciously tilting toward Dean to chase another kiss. Dean happily gave it to him, crowding him up against the half-wall. Cas crushed his face into the kiss, and somehow even that didn't feel close enough.

"I've never seen you like this, Cas." As close as they were, there was no need for Dean to raise his voice, it rumbled on low in his throat. When he sat back onto his legs, his eyes scanned back and forth like he was putting the pieces together. 

"...There's something else going on here." Dean deduced. "Isn't there? I couldn't stand being apart from you for five, ten minutes. When I was in the showers, the distance felt like... like there was a rubber band between us, that I needed to snap back to you."

"First days bonded can be... intense." Cas finally answered. "As I've been told by the other angels."

" _That's_ why you couldn't wait for the day to start!" Dean threw his head back and laughed. "Fuck, sorry if I tortured you while I was conked out. No wonder you jumped my bones this morning!" 

"Think about how we're rapidly learning to speak through our bond." Cas gently guided him into the direction he'd meant. "We went from simple exchanges of words to-"

"Dick pics," Dean chuckled at his juvenile joke again. "But you're right. We went from wiring telegrams to HDTV in like- an _hour_."

It was clear from the emotional journey that played out on Dean's face what must have been going through his mind. At first, joy at the idea of always having a mode to contact Cas after way too many off the grid situations, that they'd have their own secret dialogue that no one else could eavesdrop in on. But then-

"I want to find a way to respect your privacy." Cas spoke up for him as soon as he sensed it.

"It'll probably come out anyway. Like before," A vulnerable boyishness surfaced in Dean's tone. 

Cas's hand found Dean's and he laced their fingers together. The amount of painful memories that Dean carried within him would have to be theirs to share, and heal from, together from now on. 

"You shouldn't have to carry my baggage, Cas, dammit." Dean protested, turning his face away. It seemed their thoughts didn't even need to form proper words to be understood. "I don't want to put that on anyone."

Before they could argue any further on the subject, there was a shift in the atmosphere they both felt. Castiel was the one with enough experience to name it first- Jack's presence.

Here, in the Bunker.

 _Dean-_ Cas gasped, shooting up in bed.

 _I feel him too._ The response came back lightning fast, a speed of communication that could only be achieved with their newly linked minds.

The two thumped into a bare naked hug, squeezing the other in tight, heads tilted to rest on the shelf of the other's shoulder. 

_He's home._ Cas prayed.

Dean began to sway the hug, ever so slightly. He might not have even been aware he was doing it. 

"Let's go see our boy, Cas."

The pair rushed into the Library side by side. Dean had dressed Cas as he'd dressed himself, throwing wadded up clothes in his direction as he hopped into his own jeans. The angel was looking more rumpled than usual, his "sex hair" not just a figure of speech this time around.

They caught Jack in the middle of a deep conversation with Sam. When Jack saw them come in, he shot up so fast the chair legs squealed across the floor, the young man's expression twisted with emotion.

Then Cas was already there, whipping his arms around Jack and they both held on tight, only their foreheads and scrunched brows showing as they buried their face into the reunion and clung on.

Dean approached more cautiously, coming in from the side to wrap his arms around the two of them. Not long after, Sam’s long arms wrapped around all three of them somehow, his wingspan reflecting his tall height.

The little family just held onto each other, heads bowed, finally reunited.

“Good to have you home, kid.” Dean was surprisingly the one to end up speaking first.

“I sensed Cas’s return last night.” Jack began. “I couldn’t stay away. I tried to, but I... I couldn’t stand it anymore."

The three men who’d raised him, the only fathers he’d ever known, all waited for him to continue.

“Being God, you mean?” Sam offered.

“Being God. Being hands off, mostly.” Jack confirmed, which Dean just had to whistle low and shake his head in disbelief.

"What happened to all your..." Dean waggled his fingers as he tried to come up with the right wording. "God-powers?" 

"Stored away. In a safe place, where no one can access it." Jack left it as vague as that.

Then came a soft sniffing. Jack broke, a tear trickled down his nose to fall off its tip as he hung his head. "It was so hard. So lonely. I missed Earth, I missed humans." Jack’s voice wobbled as he finally raised his light eyes. “I missed my dads.”

Dean leveled his gaze to meet Jack’s. He clapped a hand to his shoulder, meaning he was about to dive into something serious. Sam and Cas could both tell Dean was about to do what the two of them had dubbed behind Dean's back, his “dad thing.”

“You're just a _kid_ , Jack. I can't let you make the same mistake I did, and put the weight of the world on your shoulders at your age." Dean began, right on cue. "You're a year younger than I was when I did that. I was four when... Mom died. I kissed childhood goodbye that night. Dad put the world on me, and it- it wasn't right. And it's not right for you to clean up everyone else's cosmic messes, either.” Dean’s hand slid up from gripping down onto the meat of his shoulder to the side of his neck.

“We're so proud of you, Jack.” Dean said, his voice steady.

It was a phrase he’d wanted to hear so badly from his own father, and his delivery of his own desire hit the nail on the head. “Cas escaped the Empty through cracks you made when you bombed the place. You’re the only reason he’s here. You’re the reason the family’s back together.”

Jack’s expression crumpled at Dean's voiced approval, the admiration he had for Dean shining in his eyes.

Then, a shadow passed over his features, he broke eye contact and hung his head in shame.

"Jack?” Deans brows quirked at the strange shift.

“It’s different with me, isn’t it.” Jack muttered, eyes glued to the floor. “I don’t count as family.”

“What?!” Dean scowled. “Jack, look at me. Of _course_ you’re family. You’re a Winchester, through and through.”

"But-" Jack’s eyes were quickly filling with tears, shiny and brimming within their lower lids. “You told me-” His voice began to change, the tears making it rough as sandpaper, words choking out of his throat. “You said-"

“ _Fuck_ what I said.” Dean’s brows drew down hard over his eyes, bright with anger. “That came from the worst version of myself. One backed into a corner, out of time and out of options. I never should have said what I said, I never should have _pulled a gun_ on Sam. Both happened. And I’m sorry they did.”

Dean swallowed and continued. “We’re you’re dads, Jack. All of us. I can’t say we saw this kind of situation coming, but it’s what we got. And we all- we love you. So much.” Even though Dean had stuttered through it, he’d vocalized it. And he was damn proud of himself for that, Cas felt the powerful emotion radiating from him, pulsating through their budding link.

“Come home, Jack.” Dean pleaded, his voice raw. 

The tears finally spilled over and streaked down the young man's cheeks, his lips were pressed firmly together as he nodded over and over. He tipped forward into Dean, burying his face in his chest and squeezing on tight. Dean wrapped his arms right back around him, rested his cheek on his son's head.

"I'm so tired," Jack admitted, his voice wobbling.

"-His human side." Castiel spoke up to explain. "He's been a while without sleep, and if he's stored his powers away, it must be catching up to him. You should rest, Jack." Cas's tone was stern, but the soft way he tucked a stray lock of blond hair behind his ear suggested otherwise. "I'll tuck you in." 

None of them had had the heart to clear out Jack's bedroom when he'd left to play God, it was almost like they'd memorialized it. His belongings still sat exactly where he'd left them, the framed photo he had of his mother Kelly, an unopened chocolate bar, his old second-gen iPod wrapped in earbuds. Dean had handed it down to him when he realized his music tastes were expanding past anything he could understand, mostly over his shared affinity with Cas over Taylor Swift.

The blankets and sheets had gone musty over time, so the two stripped the bed. Cas brought in freshly laundered bedding stored in the washroom, and the two made it together.

"Cas, you and Dean..." Jack finally started when he wriggled under the covers. "Something... _happened_ between the two of you, didn't it? Your grace, his soul- they feel different to me now. "

Cas smiled softly, crinkling up the corners of his eyes. "I knew you'd be able to sense it." He sat down at the edge of the freshly made bed before continuing. "Yes. Dean and I are bonded now." 

Jack's mouth broke into a bright, wide smile. He would have hopped up out of bed if Cas didn't press on his shoulder to keep him where he was.

"When I made my deal with the Empty," Cas explained as calmly as possible, he didn't want to rile Jack up any further. "I didn't know what could have brought me true happiness and summoned it. It turns out- it was confessing my love to Dean."

Jack waited for him to continue, those bright blue eyes shining in anticipation. He snuggled down further, curling his fingers around the top of his comforter just like he'd seen kids do in the TV shows. 

"Dean's soul- it isn't like any other human's. Not anymore." Cas continued. "It's been purified out of demonhood, it's been occupied by Michael, it's experienced Hell, Heaven, Purgatory..." The angel trailed off. 

"All of that, it changed his soul." Jack inferred. "Didn't it?"

"Yes," Cas knew what question was coming next. 

"So, what is he now?" Jack asked softly.

"I'm..." Cas faltered. "I'm not sure, Jack. The way his soul can act... it almost suggests..." 

Jack blinked, hanging on to every word. Cas's mouth pressed into a line, instead he shook his head. "I'm not certain. But he... he was the one who pulled me in. He was the one who initiated our bond." 

"-Does this mean you're getting married?" Jack blurted out the question he'd been holding back the whole time. 

Cas smiled, dipped his head. "In a way, we already are joined as one. Enough questions for now, _Nor_." The Enochian word for _son_ slipped out, but Jack had understood what it meant. The language was built in for him, like it was for all angels. 

"We'll explain more to everyone about our bond over dinner. For now, we'd all feel better if you rested." Cas shot him a soft smile.

"Okay," Jack agreed sheepishly. "You'll come get me when it's time to eat?" 

"I'll come get you," Cas repeated, breaking into a smile. "I'm so glad you're back home." 

"Me too," Jack whispered before closing his eyes, a faint smile on his face. Cas turned off the light as he left the room, leaving the door open just a crack.

Cas could sense exactly where Dean was, and followed the feeling to the the kitchen. He watched Dean's back from the doorway as he chopped and prepped dinner for the whole family. The angel admired the way his shoulder blades protruded from under the faded color of his jade tee that might have once been olive, stretching the fabric to bridge across.

"Hey," Dean greeted softly without turning around.

He was a marvelous cook. After years of being forced to be resourceful with limited ingredients growing up, his cooking was almost magical when he had a fully stocked kitchen at his disposal.

Cas came in closer and wound his arms around him from behind, pressed his cheek up against the curve of muscles in his back and placed an open palm over his heart to feel that steady thud. He sighed contentedly and let his eyes close, but surprisingly he could still see.

Cas could see through Dean's eyes.

Dean was prepping so the ingredients could stew for a few hours in the slow cooker, his signature and hearty pot roast that made anyone who tasted it come back for a second serving. He tackled the potatoes next, peeling them deftly with a proper knife, no need for the safety of a peeler. He placed the naked ones to wobble on the corner of the cutting board, and dug in deep with his thumb to get out an eye that had started to sprout.

Cas just held onto him through it all, soaking in Dean's warmth and solidness within his arms.

His grace stirred, awakening. Cas took a step back and two fingers came up to touch his chest. At first he thought it might have been a fluke, until it happened again, that same slow churn, gaining momentum as it went. So it didn't activate only in sexual situations, it seemed. It was simply when they felt the most connected to one another.

"Dean," Cas's voice rumbled. He swallowed nervously, not sure if Dean would want to here in the kitchen. "My grace is-" 

"I can feel it.” Dean interrupted with a slight clearing in his throat, only turning his cheek enough for one of his eyes to glint at Cas. "I want it."

"Here?" Cas asked unsurely.

"We're busy cooking up a storm in here, Cas, they'll all leave us be." 

The angel happily bumped back into him from behind once again, wrapping him up securely in his arms. The light began to burn through Cas's clothes, and Dean's body sucked it inside hungrily. 

Dean dropped the knife, his hands instead wrapped around the edge of the countertop. He let out a soft hiss and his knees gave out, thankfully his angel was there to hold him up.

Dean's chin dropped to his glowing chest, he white-knuckled the counter's edge. A soft grunt leaked out of him, he tossed his head back with his teeth interlocked. "Jesus, Cas, you have no idea how good this feels."

 _"Ah-"_ Dean whimpered softly as the angel's grace surged hot inside him, licking him from the inside out with tongues of white flame. "Feels so damn good Cas..."

At the sound of footsteps, Cas swiftly withdrew his grace back inside his body, leaving Dean a gasping mess gripping the countertop. 

Eileen appeared in the doorway, her face looking more wan than usual, strands of dark hair were plastered in swirls to her temples.

"Good morning Eileen," Castiel greeted her, partially shielding Dean behind his back so he'd have another moment to pull himself together. He tipped his head to the side at her appearance. "Are you feeling alright?" 

"Good to see you're back Cas," She flashed the angel a weak smile. "Just a bit of nausea." She signed as she spoke out of habit, signaling a few circles around her stomach.

"Here," Dean spoke up, snatching up a glass of water from the cupboard and filling it from the tap. "Too much wine during your movie night with Sam? Trust me, been there." He teased as he handed the glass off to her.

"Not exactly," Eileen smiled back. Then Sam appeared behind her, hovering protectively, eyes suspiciously puppy-ish. 

Dean quirked an eyebrow at his brother's behavior. Sam's large hand curled over Eileen's shoulder from behind, and she lifted her chin to shoot him a loving glance. 

"Um." Sam grunted not-so-gracefully, and spoke up weakly. "We have some news for the family. I think we'll break it at dinner, so Jack's here for it too." 

"Dean and I have news as well," Cas piped up, resisting the urge to reach for Dean's hand when it was hanging so close by. 

"Yeah, Sam. Two can play at that game," Dean joked. "Anyways, this roast's gotta stew for a few hours. Think we can hold off on our news stories until then?"

Sam and Eileen looked at each other, sappy smiles on their faces. Cas could feel Dean's powerful surge of joy at it, even though his stoney expression didn't give it away. 

"I think so," Sam replied, but he couldn't seem to take his eyes off of Eileen. "Smells good already, guys."

"I like that shirt Dean," Eileen said as Sam gently guided her away. "Cool design."

It wasn't until then they realized Cas's grace had bleached a sunburst into the top half of Dean's shirt, turning it from a light jade to a colorless white.

They too exchanged glances, a playful spark in Dean's green eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been struggling to write recently... and I'm sorry if you saw that I took down this chapter for edits. I want to keep chipping away at this story until it's complete, I'm going to try my best to bring it all to a happy conclusion! 
> 
> If you can leave a comment, it always helps motivate me and brings a lot of happiness into my day. Thanks for reading this :)


	5. Chapter 5

Evolution. He couldn't believe it.

While Dean was giving him his first hand job ever, Cas had been deep in thought about _evolution_. Of all things.

Dean knew he was a very visual person when it came to sex, unlike Cas who was almost avoiding the subject even while he was experiencing it. But Dean just couldn't stop thinking about Cas's gorgeous body, draped naked on his bed, like he'd imagined so many times. His mind was addicted to recalling those rolling fields of pale skin, marred by a collection of so many scars from over the years. Dean's own body was the same way.

He couldn't stop thinking about the way Cas's cock felt wrapped up his hand, warm and velvety, the weight of it so much like his own. The heart-shaped underside of the pink head, falling in and out of his fist, shiny from the spread of his precum. The angel's fast breathing with his head thrown back, eyes shut tight, the sharp angle of his jaw and the instinctual call-and-response thrusts into- _fuck_. 

The angel had only been home for not even a full day, and Dean's dirty mind was already wandering. What he wanted to do next, all the things he wanted Cas to do to him... he had to stop himself. He couldn't go there, couldn't let Cas see those things yet.

"What kind of things?" Cas piped up innocently from next to him in the Impala. While dinner slow cooked and Jack napped, Dean asked Cas to go for a drive to kill some time. Miracle stuck his head out the window from the backseat, it was rolled down just enough to feel the wind on his face, but was enough of a barrier to stop him from falling out. His tongue lolled, Dean didn't realize before taking him in that dogs could smile.

Dean couldn't remember the last time he'd gone on a drive like this. He was either too drunk to risk it, or too hungover to enjoy it when sunlight sent bolts of pain through his temples. He couldn't believe he'd stopped taking Baby out for joyrides: Depression was a dirty liar, whispering in his ear each day that staying tucked away in bed would be best, nothing else would feel as good. But the wind felt amazing against his face as it drifted in through the open windows, the warmth of sunlight on his skin, the signature rumbling of the old engine. The comforting sound had been the background noise to his whole life. And of course, Cas beside him in the passenger's seat, Dean driving with just one hand on the wheel with their interlocked hands resting on the black leather seat between them.

_I've wanted to do this for so long,_ Cas had told him when they'd first started driving. _To reach over and hold your hand while you drive, just like this, and not let go._

Cas was so damn innocent, he'd only just dipped a toe into the sexual world Dean had been a part of for decades. Dean almost felt guilty, like he was corrupting him with this stuff. 

"But, you told me you wanted to be my teacher." Cas once again commented on his stream of thoughts. It would take some getting used to, the complete openness of Dean's mind around the angel. 

"I do," Dean cleared his throat into his fist. "Of course I wanna teach you, Cas. I just-" Dean laughed at his next thought. "You're just- I like you this way. I guess I don't want that to change."

Cas tipped his head to the side. "Why would that change?" 

Dean shook his head, smirking. "I dunno. Maybe it won't. I'm probably overthinking it." He chuckled, squeezing a pulse around Cas's hand.

"I want to know, Dean." Cas stubbornly wouldn't let the subject drop. "I want to know the things you want from me in the bedroom. You won't let yourself think these thoughts- you're hiding them from me." 

"I'm not-" Dean instinctually began, but Cas quirked a knowing brow at him. "Okay fine. Maybe I'm not letting myself go there. I don't wanna overwhelm you, Cas. We should start out with baby steps, you know?" 

Cas squinted at him, not satisfied in the slightest with his answer. "We don't have to _do_ it now," He argued again, voice rumbling low just like the engine. "But I want to _know_."

"Cas," Dean grunted. His stomach knotted at the thought of letting him see just how depraved he was. 

"Please." Cas had shifted in his seat to face him, staring at him intensely.

The road was straight and empty, so Dean was able to turn to Cas for a good few seconds. He took in a deep breath, and finally let himself go there.

Dean couldn't believe he was letting Cas in on this fantasy of his, one that had been nurtured and grown within his mind over many lonely nights, ripe enough now to share.  The details were crystal clear and striking, and it was set in third person: it made sense that it would be in the same perspective as most pornography. 

The blankets lumped around them became golden hills and shadowy valleys from a lamp spilling its cozy golden light over the two of them, nestled into Dean’s bed for the night. Cas was draped over Dean in a naked tangle, fingers interlocked and held just over Dean’s head. Dean's ankles were locked at the small of his back as Cas's dick, stiff and shining with lube, penetrated into him over and over again. The angel's adoring hips moved so slowly, as if he was going just one vertebrae at a time, butt cheeks carving out deep dents with each downstroke. Dean’s neck arched as he let out a soft moan, parted lips not lonely for long as Cas pressed deep inside to lean up and kiss him.

The angel beside him gasped quietly. Dean didn’t turn to look at him, just kept his eyes glued straight ahead on the road, white-knuckling the steering wheel. He was torn that he’d let Cas see it, his face and neck burned warmer than usual.

“I'd like to do that someday, Dean.” Cas purred, letting go of his hand to trail his fingertips up the back of his neck. “Make love to you in that way.”

The angel clearly couldn’t understand why a dark shame was marbled throughout the scene.

“Your emotions are mixed...” Cas sighed, taking his hand away. “I don’t understand. What is shameful about what you showed me?”

“I wish I could see the world like you can, Cas.” Dean rasped softly. “But I can’t. I got told lies so many times, somewhere along the line I guess I started believing them.” 

Dean took a deep breath before getting into it. There was something about being in Baby driver's seat that calmed him enough to go to difficult places.  “Me Dad ‘n Sam, we met lots of different folks moving around the country, following cases. I bet there were more, but only one guy I knew was open about it. And he- uh.” Dean stopped, licked his lips. His mouth felt so dry all of the sudden. 

“...He died. Slow. Wasted away. They didn’t know what caused it then, didn’t know how to cure it. They said men who slept with each other... that they had a disease. Catching it was a death sentence. People said that they were sick not just in their bodies, in their minds too. I was scared shitless. Didn’t matter where we went, news about it spread. Dad got protective of me...” Dean laughed bitterly. “Maybe he suspected me, 'cuz he never had the same lecture with Sammy.”

“I’d never let you get sick.” Cas blinked in surprise. “Not even the common cold. My grace flows through your body now... it protects you. Heals you.”

“Yeah.” Dean grunted. “I know. 'Course you will. Just- growing up around all that- guess it ain’t so easy to shake.” 

“I’ve felt this way, too." Cas admitted softly. "Battled with myself. Challenged the things I’ve always been told about humans. Why we should stay away, why we should hate them. The others knew, Dean. They could all tell, even before I could myself. They shunned me.” Cas dropped his head to his chest. "They hated me for loving you." 

"You couldn't help it, Cas." Dean blurted protectively.

"Could you?" Cas asked right back. "We can't choose who we love. But I'm happy it was you, Dean. Loving you makes me so happy." 

Cas stifled a moan and his fingertips trailed his chest, above the faint glow that was quickly spreading. Dean could feel it, the way it was welling up. His soul craved it, already started folding inside itself in that weird, inside-out sensation he was still getting used to. It suddenly struck him what it felt like- it was like a charred marshmallow with a blackened skin, but with gooey, sweet whiteness on the inside.

"Geez, Cas." Dean teased. "You're popping another grace-boner?"

Cas shot him one of his grumpy glares, planting his hand on his chest.

"It's not like I can control it," Cas muttered in his defense. "They just happen."

"So, exactly like a boner?" Dean's point was only further made.

Cas rolled his eyes, but the corner of his lips twitched upward. 

"I'll find somewhere to pull over," Dean's tone had softened when he spoke up again. "-Been waiting for chance to do-over after we got interrupted last time."

He spotted a shoulder surrounded by a grove of trees, gravel audibly popped under Baby's tires as he pulled in. When the car rolled to a stop, Miracle whined softly and rested his scruffy chin on the seat, shiny puppy dog eyes staring up at Dean. He was a smart pup- he knew that when the car stopped, what came next was getting out and exploring somewhere new. He was wondering why Dean hadn't gotten out to open the door for him yet.

"Oh, right." Dean chuckled, tousling the curly fur at the top of his dog's head. "Forgot about you." 

Miracle gave him a few wags.Dean then remembered that Sam had bought him dog toys a while ago, in an attempt to get him to drag himself out of bed for once. Guilt washed over him when he realized he'd thrown the box in the trunk to be forgotten right afterwards, swearing he'd take Mir to a dog park or something, but never got around to it. At least it was there now. 

Dean rooted around and found a rawhide bone, passing it to the dog through the upper half of the window. 

"That'll keep 'im busy for now," Dean chuckled, looping back around to shut the trunk.

Dean climbed into the driver's seat and slammed the door. By now, Cas's grace was glowing incredibly bright, the spot had surpassed the size of his planted hand. His fingers were glowing orange-red, Dean could see the dark outlines of his bones inside, like his hand was over a powerful flashlight. The next instant Cas pounced on him, hand shoved into the short hairs at the back of the hunter's head, eagerly sucking at his lips. Dean's hands cupped the sides of Cas's pale neck, glided upwards past all that rough stubble to hold both sides of his face. Dean drew him in even closer, deepening the kiss with his thumbs sinking into the indents below Cas's cheekbones.

"Lemme take this off first," Dean reached behind him and grabbed the hem of his tee shirt, lifting it up and off and tossing it into the foot space underneath the glove compartment. "Not letting you bleach all my shirts out, buddy."

Finally, Cas's grace danced through the air between their chests like glowing smoke before pressing into Dean's sternum. Dean sucked in a breath at the feeling, that signature burn that was quickly becoming something familiar.

It just kept coming, filling him up, overflowing past his soul's small size like before. Dean sighed happily at the full sensation, hand pawing the back of Cas's head to grip his hair as they laid there chest-to-chest in the front seat, Dean pinned under Cas's weight. 

The angel found a new spot in his soul to work on this time, pooling around it and kneading at it like knots in a back. Dean basked in the feeling, he was almost drunk on it when Cas finally pulled away, caressing his soul one last time as he parted from it.

"Goddamn," Dean breathed when they'd finally separated. "I might need a minute before I start driving again, Jesus Cas, that shit drives me wild."

When Dean opened his eyes again Cas was sitting up, and silently handed him his shirt.

"Thanks," Dean sat up too and pulled it on. "Hey, there's something I've been thinking about. What is it, exactly? Your grace. It's not a solid, so is it a liquid? Or a gas? It feels like water, the way it moves in me, sometimes."

"It isn't any of those." Cas stated plainly. "My grace is plasma." 

"Oh," Dean hadn't learned about _that_ state of matter in his third grade science class.

"Here on Earth, you find plasma in fire and lightning. Out in space, the stars." Cas's deep voice was so calming when he explained things like this. No wonder Sam was the one who volunteered to teach Jack about lore, Cas's voice would have lulled him right to sleep.

Dean checked the time on the dash's clock, they still had some time left to kill. Dean had spotted a ball launcher in the box of toys for Miracle, a long curved neck ending in a scoop with a tennis ball inside. Dean had never seen one before, but it claimed to launch a ball up to 40 feet, so he was willing to put that to the test.

Dean found the perfect field for it on their way home, matted with just enough dead grass so it wasn't pure dirt and dust. He and Cas leaned on the hood of the parked Impala as Dean tossed the ball over and over, sending it in an impressive arc for Miracle to bound after. Dean didn't realize that dogs had a superpower of never getting bored with anything. Miracle plopped the drool-covered tennis ball dutifully at Dean's feet each time, running after it with the same fervor as the first throw, even after the thirtieth. 

The sun was dipping lower on the horizon, stretching out shadows and tinting the world in golden orange. The moment was so picture perfect, Dean couldn't understand why it made worry brew deep in his gut.

"Something on your mind?" Cas asked him quietly the second he felt it.

Dean sighed. "I dunno. Whenever things go right for me, it’s all a setup for it all to come crashing down. Something about this feels too good to be true, Cas, and I'm fucking terrified of losing this." Dean's heart clenched just at the thought. "Losing any of this. It feels like a house of cards: you, Jack, Sammy and Eileen. It can't last. It just can't." 

"Chuck isn’t the writer of your story anymore, Dean. You are." Cas met his eyes, smiling sweetly at him. Golden hour filtered through his eyes gorgeously. "We write our own story now." 

" 'Finally free', huh." Dean echoed what he'd said to Sam. "I dunno, Cas. Maybe I don't know how to be free."

"Then we'll figure out how together." Cas assured him, taking his hand. "I'm not sure I know how either."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I got inspired to keep working on this when #CastielMatters trended on Twitter today... so many hashtags have trended over the past few months! I love it, I love that we're not taking the bullshit they left us with. LOL. This fandom is amazing.
> 
> Sorry I'm stretching this story out so much, I just love to burn it nice and slow. A big chunk of the next chap is already written, truthfully I had to split this one off when it got too long! So my next update shouldn't be too far away. But as always your comments help it arrive faster! Thanks sm for reading :-)


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